Fashionably Dead Down Under

by Robyn Peterman

  The scent of the grass tickled my nose and I giggled. No one would ever believe me if I told them how stunning Hell was. Running toward the energy, I froze when I saw a free-standing door approximately twenty feet ahead. What was a door doing in the middle of a field? It stood about eight feet tall and was made of intricately carved wood. The shiny black lacquer finish glistened in the sun and the handle looked as if was encrusted with jewels. Was that a portal? There was no fucking way it could be this easy.

  Approaching slowly in case it was a trap I moved closer. I kept myself cloaked and levitated off the grass so I didn’t accidentally rustle anything on the ground. The air on either side of the door shimmered and moved in the gentle breeze. Was something there? I couldn’t tell. I floated around the door. It truly was freestanding. There was nothing but grass behind and all around it . . . and it was making me horny. My nipples hardened and a tingling started low in my abdomen. What was happening here? Was the door a succubus? Could an inanimate object be a succubus? When had I lost my mind and thought humping a door might be a good idea? I realized it wasn’t the door I want to do the horizontal mambo with and I heaved a huge sigh of relief, but what was it?

  The aroma of freshly baked brownies accosted my nose and . . . Brownies? No way.

  I needed to become corporeal if I wanted to open the door, but was unsure if the owners of the brownie scent would be happy to see me.

  “General George Patton? Bambi? Is that you?” I whispered, hoping to God I wasn’t attracted to them. “It’s me, Astrid. I’m Dixie’s cousin and she said you wouldn’t, you know, um . . . eat me because we have the same . . . ”

  They materialized and I screamed. They were heinous. I hadn’t remembered the Hell Hounds being quite so big. Moving away slowly while keeping my eyes on them, I debated on whether or not to run or hump them. Please tell me I didn’t just consider humping Hell Hounds . . . Their eyes narrowed and they lifted their bulbous snouts in the air.

  “Astrid, it’s lovely to see you again,” a deep goofy male voice said. Neither one of the Hell Hounds mouths moved. I whipped around to find the owner, but no one was there.

  “It’s me, General George,” the voice huffed. “I speak through my eyebrows.”

  WTF?

  “You have eyebrows?” I asked, stepped closer and noticed the bushy wiry tufts of hair above his beady eyes.

  “Yep. All Hounds speak through the brows.”

  He was right. They bounced in rhythm with his words. Bizarre.

  “If you talk with your eyebrows, what do you do with your mouth?”

  “Eat pizza and destroy those that threaten the life of my master.”

  “Right.” As much as I was repulsed by the duo, my inner slut was telling me a different story. Shit. This was not happening.

  “Um, I was wondering where this door led. Do you know?” I asked, dying to run my hands over my breasts. I slapped them to my sides and held on to my pants. I wasn’t attracted to them last night. Why was I attracted to them now?

  “Are you okay?” Bambi’s eyebrows asked me in a high squeaky voice.

  “Not really,” I whispered. “Do you guys feel anything weird?”

  “Always,” General George told me. “Why? What are you feeling?”

  Truth or dare? If I came clean and they felt the same way this could be a clusterfuck of massive proportions. Pun intended. But if I lied would they know?

  “I’m, um . . . ” I wrung my hands and cursed Satan for making me stay in Hell. There was no way I could tell animals that I thought I wanted to do the nasty with them, no matter how much they smelled like brownies. Omission is not lying. “I lost something important to me and I was looking for it.”

  “It or them?” Bambi’s brows jiggled.

  Did they know something? My gut told me not to fear them, but I was in Hell where nothing was as it seemed. “Them,” I told her. I was at a dead end. I could feel my little monsters slightly, but it had faded. “My Demon Babies.”

  “Are you speaking of Abe, Beyonce, Rachel and Ross?” General George’s waggly eyebrows inquired with great fondness. Hopefully it wasn’t because he’d just eaten them as an afternoon snack.

  “Maybe,” I answered. “Have you seen them?”

  “Oh yes, my dear,” he said. “Abe was quite sure you’d be coming. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes.” Bambi giggled, if you could call a snort that spewed slobber a giggle. “We are here to guide you.”

  “Why would you help me?” For the second time in less than ten minutes I wondered if this was a trap.

  “Something is afoot and it’s wrong,” General George grunted, shaking his ginormous furry head.

  “I thought you guys were okay with evil stuff.”

  “Oh, we are, but this goes far beyond evil,” Bambi added.

  “Are my babies okay?” I asked, heading for the door to go find them. I was going to kill those little shits if they weren’t already dead.

  “For now,” Bambi assured me, stepping into my path. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

  I halted and again I considered lying, but something stopped me. They were trying to help me. They said they were my guides. Maybe they would be flattered if they knew I thought they were hot . . . but I didn’t think they were hot at all. I just had a disgusting compulsion to scratch my itch, so to speak.

  “Well,” I hedged. “I’m not sure and I’m actually mortified to say this, but I might be just the tiniest weeniest bit, um . . . ”

  “Attracted to us?” George asked, his eyebrows dancing a jig.

  “Possibly,” I muttered almost inaudibly. How was I going to live this one down?

  “Excellent,” Bambi screeched. “The little Demons were correct. Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” I yelled. “You’re just going to let that slide?”

  “Yes, we are,” General George said, avoiding eye contact.

  As grossed out as I was with myself, I was also completely insulted. Clearly they weren’t attracted to me and I wanted to know why. But how in the world did I broach that one?

  “It’s your chest bumps and your stench,” he said, intently examining his hooves.

  “Can you read my mind?” I snapped. Wait. Did he actually just refer to my boobs as chest bumps and call me stinky?

  “You need to shut your brain doors,” Bambi told me sweetly. “And you do smell odd, but so do all Vampyres.”

  “Chest bumps?” I pointed to my offensive mammaries.

  “Yes, dear.” She giggled as her brows shimmied on her forehead. “Do you find us attractive?”

  “Well, um . . . no, not exactly.”

  “We find each other very appealing,” she cooed, nudging a now embarrassed General. “You are not attracted to us and we are not attracted to you. You are attracted to something behind the door.”

  “Thank Satan,” the General snorted. The ego part of me wanted to smack him and the sane part of me wanted to laugh. The laugh won out.

  What was behind the door? As relieved as I was that I didn’t really want to get down on it with General George and Bambi, I wondered if the alternative was worse. Enough about my libido. I didn’t plan to satisfy it no matter how horny I was. My mate was on Earth and I was a one Vamp girl. Period.

  “Are my Babies behind the door?”

  “Not directly,” Bambi explained, moving her huge hairy body to the left of the door.

  “But they did go in there?”

  “Yes.” George shook his head sadly. “I begged them to wait till you came and we could all search together, but they insisted.”

  “Why?”

  They were silent. Not gonna work for me. Had they lied to me? Did they eat them?

  “Why?” I demanded.

  The Hell Hounds exchanged furtive glances and Bambi sighed dramatically. “They said he needed to eat. They were going in there to sacrifice themselves.”

  “What?” I shouted, grabbed the handle and tried to push
the door open. “To who? Who in the Hell are they going to sacrifice themselves to?”

  “I think the name they used was Ethan.”

  My world spun and I landed hard on the ground. The Hounds got me back on my feet, but the ringing in my ears was deafening and I wouldn’t have known if they had taken a big chunk out of me. My body shook and real fear grabbed hold of me and held on tight. Why was he here and why was he behind this door?

  “Where does this door lead?” I asked, wanting to know yet dreading the answer.

  “To all the other levels of Hell.”

  “Can you take me to Ethan?”

  “That is why we are here. Is he important to you?” General George asked.

  “He’s my world—my entire world.”

  Chapter 12

  The door was locked.

  “What the hell?” I groaned and rattled the diamond and ruby covered knob. “It’s locked.”

  “Do you trust us?” General George asked, watching me with a thoughtful expression.

  Did I? Kind of . . . I didn’t really have much of a choice. They knew where Ethan and my Baby Demons were. I needed them. Staring at his bulbous head and hairy body, I made a decision to throw my normal caution to the wind and go with it.

  “Yes.”

  “With your life?” Bambi inquired, licking her lips.

  That lip-smacking thing didn’t really inspire undying allegiance, but when in Hell . . .

  “Sure.” Dear Sweet Baby Cousin Jesus, please let me survive this . . .

  “Put one of your hands in each of our mouths,” the General instructed.

  What? “Um, will your slobber lube them up so I can open the door?”

  They laughed so hard I actually joined them. WTF? I was about to potentially lose both of my hands and I was cackling like a hyena. I mean, I knew they’d grow back, but that took time and hands were kind of important at the moment.

  “Can I ask why I need to do this?”

  “No,” Bambi said.

  “Fine,” I grumbled and shoved my hands into their mouths. Time was of the essence and if they wanted to eat my appendages, I was quite sure they could do it without my blessing.

  The insides of their mouths were spongy and warm. The scent of hot brownies grew stronger and I closed my eyes. If this turned out to be a bad move I planned to conjure up my black gloves and fry their asses. The light pressure of razor sharp teeth scraped my palms and rough tongues bathed my hands in what truly felt like brownie batter . . . ewwwww. Every instinct I had was to yank my hands out, but their lips had closed around my wrists in a seal-tight lock.

  “Fuck,” I shouted and futilely tried to disengage as their teeth pierced my skin. A rush of something cold shot through my body and landed right between my eyes, giving me one of the worst brain freezes I’d ever felt—black raspberry chip ice cream had nothing on the Hell Hounds.

  Gasping in pain and dropping to my knees, I lamented my utter stupidity. I attempted to use my varied and sundry magic on them, but I was blocked. No matter how hard I tried to call upon my power, nothing happened. My eyes were screwed shut in agony from the headache pounding in my skull. Prying them open took everything I had, but I needed to look at them while they killed me. I wanted them to see how much I hated them.

  The love and compassion on their hairy faces threw me and made me second guess for a brief moment, but the icy cold shooting through my veins brought me back to my bleak reality. I had trusted the bad guy . . . or rather bad dog. And then it stopped . . . The shock of being released was jarring. I quickly scooted away and cloaked myself in invisibility.

  “Are you alright?” Bambi asked kindly. WTF? I heard her voice, but her eyebrows were still. I didn’t answer.

  “We can see you,” General George said. And just as with Bambi, his bushy eyebrows were immobile. “We can also hear you, so if you’re going to be rude you might want to rethink it.”

  “Why?” I yelled. “Will you sink your teeth into my ass or my head next time?” That hairy bastard had one hell of a nerve. And how could they see me? I was cloaked . . . and furthermore how in the hell could I hear them when they weren’t actually talking through their eyebrows? Shit. Were we connected? Did the freezing cold bite connect us somehow?

  “It did,” Bambi snorted gleefully. “When we descend to the lower levels, we need to communicate. It will be the simple difference of you making it out alive or dead.”

  “So that excruciating chomp was a love bite?” I snapped, still not willing to let bygones be bygones.

  “Exactly,” she agreed and rubbed her big soft head on my leg.

  “You’ll have to stay cloaked and just think your thoughts at us. We can speak as much as necessary and no one will be the wiser.” General George’s voice bounced around inside my head.

  “Okay,” I said internally. “Can I ride on your back?”

  “If it pleases you.” He chuckled. “We used to ride Dixie around for hours on end.”

  “Can she talk to you?”

  “Oh no, dear,” Bambi said. “Not yet, but soon.”

  It was clear that was as much of an explanation as I would get from them about who could hear them and who could not. Whatever. There were far more important things pressing at the moment.

  “Are we ready?” I asked, wishing I had weapons on me. I would just have to defend myself and my furry friends with magic.

  “The question is, are you?” George countered.

  “I was born ready.” I grinned and hopped on his back. Bambi pushed the door open with her hoof and we descended into the abyss.

  ***

  Whatever I had expected, it certainly wasn’t this. Lines of desks and filing cabinets littered an area roughly the size of a football field. Harsh fluorescent lighting bathed everyone’s skin giving it a greenish hue. Demons hustled around in a business-like manner. Wearing suits and ties and conservative dresses, they manned computers and phones. Most of the Demons looked like humans, but there were a few who resembled my father. I watched in shock as they all worked like a very well oiled machine. Several of the heinous Demons had human looking hands or hair. Maybe they were wearing wigs . . . but the hands were real. But the strangest thing of all was the purple and red and black darts of light flying around the room bashing into everything. The demons seemed to take no notice of the spastic lights, but occasionally swatted them away if they got right in their faces. WTF?

  “What’s the deal with the ugly Demons?” I asked, wishing we could get a closer look.

  “They’re trying to redeem themselves. The ones that have grown back some skin are successfully on their way to being able to visit the Main Floor of Hell,” Bambi explained. “It takes hundreds of years and raw determination to come back from the skinless evil they had chosen, but a few actually make it.”

  “My father looked like that.”

  “Yes,” the General said tersely.

  Bambi said nothing, but I was sure they exchanged some kind of mental telepathy that they chose to leave me out of. There was a fuzzy noise and I knew they were communicating. I could care less if they were insulting my father. Hell, I’d had my Baby Demons eat him . . .

  “It’s okay, you guys. I know my dad was bad. Don’t hide your thoughts.”

  “You heard us?” Bambi stuttered and stopped moving.

  “Not what you said,” I answered, alarmed. Was that bad? “It was more like a blurry signal. I knew you were talking, but you blocked me.”

  General George’s head bobbed and his body shuddered. Bambi gaped at me as I sat astride her boyfriend’s back.

  “What? Is that a big deal?” They were making me a little nervous. Why do I always talk before I think?

  “It is,” George said reverently. “It is.”

  “You gonna expand on that, big guy?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Nope.”

  “Fine,” I snapped. “Where are we and where are Ethan and my babies?’

  “They’re still a ways away. This
is the processing center. When a soul enters Hell they come here and get assigned a level.”

  “Are the souls those obnoxious little lights flying everywhere?”

  The General gasped and Bambi’s snout paled. That was freakin’ weird. I was so obsessed that her nose went from pink to white I forgot I had yet again apparently said something wrong.

  “You see the souls?” Bambi asked blankly.

  “Um . . . maybe,” I said, not wanting to commit to the wrong answer. They could still eat me if they wanted to.

  “What colors do you see?” General George demanded.

  “Why? Is this some kind of problem?” I shot back. I had places to go and shit to do. What in the hell was the big deal?

  “No,” he answered carefully. “It would just confirm our suspicions. What colors do you see?” His voice was gruff and quite honestly scary. Was there an incorrect answer? Fuck. The truth will set you free . . . or get you eaten by Hell Hounds.

  “Fine. And by the way, if you look over your shoulder you’ll see me rolling my eyes . . . I see purple, red and black.”

  They were silent. Did they hear me? General George started to chuckle and Bambi’s beady little eyes swam with tears. WTF?

  “Amazing,” he murmured.

  “Let me guess,” I said dryly, “you have no intention of explaining why I’m so fucking amazing.”

  “Correct, but know that you are not exactly what we expected,” he said.

  “Story of my life. Can we get moving?” Time was wasting and I needed my mate and my monsters.

  “Do you trust us?” Bambi asked.

  What’s with that question? Last time I answered that little ditty I got a massive brain freeze from Hell Hound teeth . . .

  “Will it hurt if I say yes?” I asked, bracing myself for something horrific.

  “Possibly,” she said, smiling.

  At least she was honest . . .

  “Sure. I, um—trust you to . . . ”

  The searing crack of pain at the back of my skull came from her paw that felt like a ton of bricks as it connected with my head. The room went blurry and the Demons appeared to have grown extra heads and lips. The soul lights looked like a Christmas tree in a cyclone. This was the last fucking time I trusted dogs . . . Slumping forward on the General’s furry back, everything went dark.